


Freeze Pop

by delightedgurgle



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Drabble, Dubious Consent, Episode 3, First Time, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, Underage Sex, because I'm sure I'm not the only one still sweating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-26
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-08-27 04:24:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8387098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delightedgurgle/pseuds/delightedgurgle
Summary: Premise: "Do you even understand what the term sexual means? If you suck then my win means nothing."A drabble where Yuri takes one for the team.





	

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. In case you missed the tags/warning: underage and pretty dubious consent. If you don't like that then don't read this. Doing so will cause upset stomach and gas for multiple hours. 
> 
> 2\. [In case you were like "freez?e pop????? ?" ](https://i.kinja-img.com/gawker-media/image/upload/s--nXo8onad--/18pa2hkbi2qv5jpg.jpg)
> 
> 3\. In case you have high expectations despite the disclaimer "drabble": I wrote this fast and didn't edit it so it's not gonna be SUPER well written. Whatever.
> 
> 4\. In case you care: OOC, probably (definitely)
> 
> 5\. Yuri vs Yuuri, spelling-wise, is a really annoying thing to remember when you're writing, so apologies if there are parts where it should be Yuri instead of Yuuri or vice versa. I tried :(

Yuri’s busy thinking about his own shit, but it still keeps popping up in his head.

They’re both putting their skates on before practice in the perpetually empty locker room when he snaps.

“Seriously? A pork cutlet bowl?!”

“Y-Yes.”

What the fuck.

“What the _fuck_?! Do you even understand what the term sexual means?”

Yuuri makes a small noise like he’s about to attempt a response. Yuri waves at him dismissively, a disgusted look on his face from just _thinking_ about how lame whatever was going to come out of his mouth would be. 

“How is it possible that you’re still a virgin. People will throw themselves at athletes after performances. Regardless of their FUCK UPS. Especially if it’s on tv.” 

Yuuri looks like he’s considering the wrong part of what Yuri just said.

“But you’re only 15.” His face is scrunched up at the _scandal_ of it.

Yuri cannot even control the rolling of his eyes.

“Oh _fuck off_. Listen I don’t even care, but I’m not even going to have to _try_ to beat you at this rate. It’s not even a competition. And that’s great for me and everything but it’s really no fun.”

Yuuri looks indignant like that's ~totally not true~. He's doing that self-conscious sputtering thing. It is annoying.

“Fine. Fine.” Yuri says, almost to himself. “Sit down.” Yuuri looks confused but he does it anyway. “And try not to say anything stupid,” Yuri adds as an afterthought.

Yuuri looks offended, but still more confused than anything else. That expression turns to shock when Yuri’s lips land on his own, soft and confident.

Yuuri pulls away, face red and heart going mad.

“You’re _fifteen!_ ” he yells.

“And you’re a _fucking idiot_. Not exactly my top choice for people I want my mouth on, you know.”

“Then _why_!”

Yuri’s still pretty close to him.

“Because you clearly aren’t gonna get it from anyone else before we compete and if you suck then my win means nothing.”

Yuuri can’t think of anything to say. It’s absurd.

Yuri has half a mind to kick him over so he’s laying on the bench. It would help relieve some of his irritation. Probably. But he’s still wearing his skates and that would maybe kill him, which would be lovely but.. Maybe some other time. So he pushes him roughly instead. One of Yuuri’s legs flails a little before settling on the other side of the bench. Yuri crawls up after him, slotting himself in between his legs and leaning down with his forearm next to Yuuri’s head. He’s close again and Yuuri looks terrified, eyes wide. Yuri doesn’t get it. It’s not _scary_.

“It’s not going to _hurt_ ,” Yuri says, almost, _almost_ feeling pity for how frightened Yuuri looks.

Yuuri makes a face like Yuri is missing a point, which seems ridiculous. “That’s not-!”

Yuri rolls his eyes again and closes the distance between them quickly. Better to just shut him up. Yuuri still seems too terrified to actually reciprocate, so he kisses a line down to his neck, dragging his lips over it before sucking a spot under his ear. Yuuri makes a tiny sound like he likes it. Yuri takes his earlobe into his teeth, nipping gently and licking along the shell.

“You don’t have to do anything.” Yuri says. He’s not looking at Yuuri. He’s just the tiniest bit embarrassed himself.

Yuri places surprisingly soft kisses over his neck and jaw and ear, experimenting to see what will have the most favorable effect. Yuuri isn’t resisting anymore. Maybe he’s realized he actually does need help. He seems a little surprised by how good it feels and Yuri does some quick math and comes to the conclusion that Yuuri is probably even less experienced than he originally thought. Which is oddly thrilling.

His free hand very gradually moves lower, and when it reaches its target, he shifts down before Yuuri can say anything annoying.

Then his mouth is around Yuuri’s cock, soft and hot and wet, and Yuuri _cannot understand_ how a mouth this vicious can feel so soft and gentle. He’s not sure what he was expecting this to feel like or be like, but it wasn’t this. Its.. It’s really good. He figured it couldn’t be too much different from his own hand but ahhh it isss. Yuri hasn’t even done much yet but he’s already hard.

Yuri looks up at him and Yuuri’s eyes go big again and he’s all blushy. His skull slams back against the metal bench, cold against his head, and he covers his face.

“Suit yourself,” Yuri thinks, like yuuri is being fuckin WEAK. But subconsciously he’s kindof glad. But also kindof not glad because he’s a small brat who thrives on a complex cocktail of negative and positive attention.

Anyway.

Yuuri can’t stop thinking that this is disgusting and wrong that a fifteen year old--a child--is doing this to him. It’s fucked up. His brain says that, but his cock doesn’t seem to mind. It feels really, really good. And even though his eyes are covered against the DEBAUCHERY he can still hear it, the licking and sucking noises seemingly fucking echoing in the empty space. And no one probably _will_ , but what if someone walked in right now? It’s setting him on edge, making him feel URGENT and-

Yuuri jerks as Yuri tugs down, sinful little tongue flicking over the exposed head and into the slit. He arches his back, head grinding against the bench and probably fucking his hair up. His eyes fly open and he makes an embarrassing kindof strangled sound. 

Yuri smirks. He can’t help it.

“Alright let’s kill him,” he thinks to himself, and then bobs his head all the way down until he feels Yuuri’s cock at the back of his throat. He stays there for a moment, letting both of them get used to it. Yuuri doesn’t seem like he is gonna get used to it, ever. He’s writhing like he’s trying to get away and get more at the same time. His hands have moved from covering his face to tangle in his hair. He pulls it harshly.

That is cute and everything, but Yuri reminds himself that this is the dick of an annoying, incompetent fuck presently in his mouth. He’d scowl if his lips weren’t so thoroughly occupied. He pulls off, hand wrapping around to replace his mouth, looking up to assess how close he is to completing this run-of-the-mill chore. His lips shine with spit and precome. He starts a brisk pace with his hand, panting just a little. Yuuri looks like he’s suffering. That’s a good sign. Just a little more.

He lowers his head again and swirls his tongue around the head.

Yuuri makes a pained noise, one of his hands shooting down to weakly push Yuri’s head away.

“D-don’t! I’m-oh my _god_ -”

Yuri tries very hard to empathize but he is extremely irritated by the hand on his head. He wrenches it off with as much aggression as possible.

“It’s _fine_.” He growls, “The whole point is to come.” … “But don’t fucking touch me again.”

Yuuri’s brain is firing about 1,000 signals at once, thoughts blurring together in hysteria and ecstasy. It’s something like: _Close close how is- so **good** \- wet- **fuck fuck fuck** \- fifteen- so good- stop- dontstop- just- !!hh!!!h!!!!_

“Yuri! _Ah_ Yuri I’m---” 

Yuuri scrambles to warn Yuri as he feels his orgasm about to hit him, still too uselessly embarrassed to say something as lewd as “I’m gonna come.”

And to his horror and delight, Yuri doesn’t move, just lets Yuuri come over his tongue like it’s the simplest thing. Yuuri glances down just as Yuri pulls off, a little come streaking down his lip. Their eyes meet and Yuuri’s blush deepens, which seems upsettingly impossible. Yuri stands up, smirking again, and brushes his thumb over his lip to wipe off the come. He leans over Yuuri and smears it over the corner of his still panting mouth. He smacks Yuuri’s cheek twice with a cupped hand in mock good nature.

“Pork cutlet bowls don’t do that.”

**Author's Note:**

> lms


End file.
